“Settles what!” cried the professor, in a tone full of mock disgust. “Hark at him, Frank! Settles this, sir,” he continued, flashing his fierce eyes upon the doctor, clenching his fist menacingly, and shaking his shaggy hair. “I’m off back to Egypt as soon as ever I can get a berth in a steamer, and then I’m going right up the country with tools in every pocket on purpose to file off those chains.”
“Bravo! bravo!” shouted the other two.
“An Englishman in chains,” continued the professor, gesticulating like an orator, though as a rule he was one of the quietest of men, “and of all Englishmen in the world, our Harry, the merriest school-fellow, the heartiest undergrad, and the truest friend!”
“And brother,” said Frank softly.
“Yes,” cried the professor excitedly, “and brother, that man ever had. The brother we three have mourned as dead for years, but who lives—as a slave.”
“Britons never shall be slaves,” cried the doctor solemnly.
“Never!” said Frank through his teeth, and with a look of stern determination in his eyes which meant more than words could have expressed.
“Never!” cried the professor, bringing his fist down with such a crash that this time a large goblet leaped off the table, was smashed upon the floor, and the next moment the door was thrown open and Sam, the doctor’s butler, as he called himself, looking white with anxiety, rushed into the room, to stand staring wildly from one to the other.
This quelled the professor’s excitement at once, and he dropped back in his chair and began mopping his face.
“What’s the matter, Samuel?” said the doctor sternly.